Sport Versus Game
by DNAisUnique
Summary: Post-ep for 'The Gamer in the Grease.'


**Thanks, as always, for the support and feedback for all my stories! **

**For MickeyBoggs, who correctly identified the **_**Remington Steele **_**episode hinted at in 'PDA,' and Hinky Slinky, who inspired part of this, though neither one of us realized it at the time of the conversation.**

**Enjoy!**

**VVVVV**

"When's it going to be my turn again?" Brennan sighed, almost whining.

"When I'm done with my turn, Bones," Booth replied, intently focused on the game.

"You said that thirty minutes ago," she told him dully as she folded her arms on the table and rested a cheek on her forearms.

"Yeah, it was my turn then, and it still is now," he smirked, though he never took his eyes off the screen.

"But I'm hungry!"

"Then you shouldn't have challenged me to a game of Punky Pong before dinner. Besides, I thought you wanted to play again."

"I didn't know we were going to be here all night."

"Not _all_ night," Booth told her, completing a series of moves on the arcade game, "just until I finish this game."

Brennan groaned and repositioned her head so that she was facedown, forehead resting on her arms. "If I told you that you won, would you stop playing?" she mumbled, voice muffled.

"What was that? I didn't hear you," he called over his shoulder, actually having heard every word she'd said but wanting her to say it again.

Brennan raised her head slightly and stared at his back unamused. "You win, I concede. Are you happy?"

Booth pushed away from the machine and turned around, grin already spreading across his face. He put his arms up in the air, victory-style. "Guess that makes me 'King of the Lab!'"

"It's not a real title, Booth. It's something Hodgins and Zack made up in an effort to declare momentary dominance because of the discovery of a potential case-breaking piece of evidence."

Booth chuckled as the game played the electronic jingle that signaled the end of the game. "I don't think Hodgins and Zack are going to dominate anything, Bones. And you're just upset because you lost," he teased.

"I willingly let you have the victory."

"You _let_ me win? Okay," Booth laughed, "if that's what you need to believe in order to help you sleep."

"It has nothing to do with me sleeping. It's about me being hungry. My forfeiting the arcade game allows you to win, so to speak, but I also won because my goal was to get food, and in getting you to stop playing, we can go eat."

"Impressive, Bones. That was very psychological of you. Remind me to tell Sweets you're getting better at the mind games. Where is Sweets, anyway?"

Brennan shrugged. "I haven't seen him. I've never had a problem with mind games, though. I'm very smart. You and Hank both said I should go on a game show."

"It's a different type of mind game, Bones."

"Oh," she replied simply. "So we never finished talking about what is and what is not a sport."

Surprised that she would even bring up the subject of sports, Booth grinned. "Sure we did, Bones. Let's recap. All sports are games, but not all games are sports."

Brennan stared at him, trying to process his statement and determine the difference.

"As I said earlier, basketball, football, and hockey are sports, which also makes them games. Chess, while qualifying as a game, is not a sport."

"But…"

"No sweat or chance of injury equals not a sport, remember?"

"What about Boris Spassky?"

"Who?"

"The profusely-sweating chess player I told you about earlier," she sighed.

"Doesn't count, Bones."

"Why not?"

"He just doesn't."

"That's not a valid answer," Brennan replied but didn't press the issue. "What about sex?"

"What?" Booth nearly yelped.

"You know, boom-clicka bow-wow?"

"It's 'bow-chicka wow-wow,' but what does it have to do with anything?"

"Upon pondering your definition of what is and is not a sport, it's apparent that sex--bow-chick wow-wow--qualifies as a sport."

Booth made a face. "What is it with you always bringing up sex? Of course it isn't a sport."

"Why are _you _always so uncomfortable talking about sex?" she sighed, even as a fiery passion was evident in her voice. "You're physically healthy, Booth, and sex is a natural and normal part of life. You shouldn't be ashamed of your sexuality."

"My sexuality is just fine, Bones. Can we move onto something else?"

"As soon as you tell me why sex isn't a sport."

Booth groaned as his eyes slipped shut.

"You said yourself that sweat and injury-potential qualifies as a sport," she continued. "Now I don't know about you, but any sex I've had that's been worthwhile has produced a lot of sweat. There's also an array of injuries that can occur--back, leg, and arm muscle strain, contusions, and if the sex is really aggressive…"

"Geez, Bones!" Booth interrupted forcefully, eyes bugging open, increasingly more uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "I get the picture!"

"So you agree that sex is a sport?"

"No!" He sighed heavily again and shifted from one foot to the other then back again. "A sport consists of sweat, the possibility of injury, _and_ a winner and a loser. And since there's two winners and no losers in sex, sex can not be considered a sport. Now can we please move on to something else?"

Brennan shrugged and stepped past him, heading for the platform stairs. "Did you know Hodgins has a tattoo of Angela on his arm?"

Booth stared after her. "You can switch just like that?" he asked, snapping his fingers.

"You asked me to change the subject," she replied, looking up at him from the bottom of the stairs. "Though I am still pondering whether or not sex is a game…"

**VVVVV**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
